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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26975911">Certain tendencies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowley_Kitten/pseuds/Crowley_Kitten'>Crowley_Kitten</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aziraphale plays along, Crowley tries to dom, Dom Crowley (Good Omens), Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Gentle Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Sort Of, Sub Aziraphale (Good Omens), Sub Crowley (Good Omens), Switches, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, switches bitches</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:29:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>832</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26975911</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowley_Kitten/pseuds/Crowley_Kitten</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Who likes short shorts?<br/>yeah, sorry. I'm still behind. I'm still trying to catch up.</p>
<p>Ineffable Kinktober day 9. Dom/Sub. </p>
<p>Crowley has noticed Aziraphales tendency towards being a bit of a dom, but would like to try the shoe on the other foot. his own subby tendencies still crack through, but it doesn't mean they're not having fun. </p>
<p>Crowley demands Aziraphale services him under that ostentatious desk. </p>
<p>although this is only day 9, tomorrow is the 13th, which will be my 40th birthday! INSANE. I still don't feel like a proper adulty adult. <br/>so there may not be updates over the next couple of days (also, not entirely sure what the prompt "kink free" means) <br/>I might get one more out tonight, or not. <br/>but please, dear readers, keep reading. most days, nearly every fic is getting kudos. I love that so many of you are seeking out my other works off the back of my kinktobers. <br/>comments are always loved and adored. </p>
<p>love you lots, robots and jelly tots.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Ineffable Kinktober 2020, my Ineffable Kinktober</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Certain tendencies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> <br/><span>     When Aziraphale knocked on the door of Crowley's flat, it opened itself invitingly. There was no answer from inside. </span> <br/> <br/><span>     “Crowley?” He called out anxiously. “Are you home?” </span> <br/> <br/><span>    “I’m in the office, come through.” He called back. There was a charge in the air that made Aziraphale wary.  The door to the office was half open, and he could see the back of the ridiculously ostentatious throne, long legs slung up on the opulent desk. A backdrop of the huge windows and their very expensive view. A pale left hand gestured to him to come in.  “Come in. Sit down.” There was a commanding edge to his tone Aziraphale rarely heard, and it gave him goosebumps. As he walked around the table, he saw that the smaller throne, yes, still over the top enough not to be considered a mere chair, was positioned facing the desk, in the middle of the room.  Aziraphale sat. Knees neatly together, fingers interlaced primly on his thighs. </span> <br/> <br/><span>     Crowley was on his feet, with a dramatic sling of his legs, his body following. Hands behind his back, standing tall without his usual slouch, he paced around, looking Aziraphale up and down.</span> <br/> <br/><span>     “Crowley?” Aziraphale asked softly. </span> <br/> <br/><span>     “Now, Angel. You and I both </span><span>know,</span><span> we’ve been experimenting a while. And of course, I’ve noticed you have certain.... tendencies... in our dynamic.”</span> <br/> <br/><span>       “Yes. I </span><span>…..</span><span> I hope that’s okay, I’ve not ….um...pushed you </span><span>too</span><span> far have I?” The Demon grinned wickedly.</span></p>
<p><span>     "Not at all, Angel. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed it.  I’ve just decided that, at least once in a while, I get to call the shots, that’s only fair” Aziraphale swallowed hard. His </span><span>adams</span><span> Apple bobbing. “So.... I have a bit of admin to finish up on. A call to head office. </span><span>Ummm</span><span>... I want you under the desk. I want you to suck me off while I report in, yeah?” Aziraphale couldn’t help but smirk a little. It still sounded like he wanted permission. </span> <br/> <br/><span>     “Very well, Sir.” Aziraphale said politely. He sank from the chair and prowled to the enormous desk. He barely had to lower his head to crawl beneath it. Crowley seated himself back at the ridiculous throne, and Aziraphale laid his head on Crowley's knee, listening to the scratch of the demonic feather quill as he carved out his report onto the pristine paper. Crowley's right hand settled in his hair as he scribbled away, and the sound of the nib scraping the paper was one Aziraphale always associated with comfort and home and safety. He felt quite drowsy with how he was being caressed, like a beloved pet. When the paperwork was done, Crowley laid his feather aside, sealed the report with black wax, and Aziraphale caught a whiff of hellfire as the demon sent it on its way. </span> <br/> <br/><span>     He heard the clatter of the receiver being lifted from the phone, and moments later the </span><span>crrrrrnk</span><span> of Crowley dropping his fly zip. Eagerly he watched those long, agile fingers massaging that beautiful, sleeping cock until it stood proud, jutting prominently under the desk. With a happy sigh, Aziraphale moved forwards, glancing up from under the desk. </span> <br/> <br/><span>     “May I, Sir?” </span> <br/> <br/><span>      “You may. I need to make a </span><span>phonecall</span><span>. You need to keep me on the edge until I finish, because I really don’t think I can stand the ribbing </span><span>Bee’ll</span><span> give me if they </span><span>realise</span><span> what’s going on.” Aziraphale began trailing just the tip of his enticing pink tongue up and down the underside of </span><span>Crowleys</span><span> long cock as he heard him stabbing at the buttons to make his call.  in a small, tinny, buzzier than usual voice, probably because of the line, he heard. </span> <br/> <br/><span>      “CROWLEY, your report </span><span>izzz</span><span> late.” Aziraphale dropped his tongue back to make space for that glorious appendage, taking him deep into the first few inches of the back of his throat.</span> <br/><span>“NGGGGGGGK!” </span> <br/> <br/><span>      “THAT is not an answer, </span><span>Crowley.</span><span> When can I </span><span>exxxxpect</span><span> my report?”</span> <br/> <br/><span>      “</span><span>Ummmmmm</span><span>, my Prince... Lord of the flies....I am but a lowly minion of hell.... and ...um... I called to let you know that......ARRRGGGHHH!” Crowley whimpered as he bit back the cry that bubbled up from deep inside. </span> <br/> <br/><span>      “WHAT’ZZZZZZ HAPPENING? CROWLEY, IZZZZ THIZZZZ ONE OF YOUR PRACTICAL JOKEZZZZZZZ!”</span> <br/> <br/><span>         “NO.</span><span>.....</span><span>I..... I uh........I.</span><span>..I’m</span><span> sorry my lord... I …..” His eyes closed and he whimpered as Aziraphale skillfully brought him to a gasping, loud, whimpering climax, even though he’d told him not too. Bloody Angelic bratty </span><span>dommy</span><span> bastard. “I need to go” Crowley hissed, putting the phone down hard on the receiver. He was shivering. When he glanced down to find the Angel sucking on his own fingers, moaning low and erotically as he slurped the splatters of demonic essence from his fingers. Crowleys head fell forwards. Dizzy with desire. </span> <br/> <br/><span>      “I’m SO sorry, Sir, did I do it wrong?” Aziraphale asked lightly, his eyes dancing with a wicked light.  Crowley shook his head. </span> <br/> <br/><span>       “No.....no My Angel..... You just know how to play me like a fiddle, don’t you..?.”</span></p>
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